


Since the Beginning, Until the End

by ABookAndACoffee



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABookAndACoffee/pseuds/ABookAndACoffee
Summary: Post-ACOMAF, Morrigan and Azriel have The Conversation about their relationship that they've needed to have for ages. They try to work out their issues and be honest, but it's not easy for either of them. Eventually, they run out of words and show each other how they feel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've posted (and I haven't written that much), so feedback would be appreciated! I could keep working on this forever.

Morrigan started, her head jumping off the desk with a sharp intake of breath as she realized she had fallen asleep. She had been going over plans with Rhysand and Amren when she excused herself to look over reports that Azriel usually looked after. They had to get Feyre out of the Spring Court as soon as possible, but in the meantime she was feeding them valuable information.  
  
Mor took in her surroundings until she realized why she had woken. A tendril of shadow peeked around the doorway, patiently waiting for her to follow.  
  
Weeks had passed since their encounter with the King of Hybern, and Azriel had since healed. He still couldn't attend to his usual duties for Rhysand, and Morrigan looked after him when she could. Knowing that his shadows were beckoning her, Mor stood to follow. She wasn't sure how the shadows worked, or why they appeared to her, only that they were nearly familiar friends at this point.  
  
"How is he," she asked. She had become accustomed to talking to Azriel's shadows about him, as if they were conspirators in watching over the shadowsinger. The shadows always had a purpose, knowing when he needed her, and sometimes when she needed him.  
  
The shadows took her out into the hallway, and she quickly recognized the path to Azriel's chambers. "Well, I'm a bit tired, but otherwise alright, thanks for asking. I'd kill for a glass of wine right now." Her voice faded a bit as she approached his doorway. "Which Azriel should I expect right now," she asked the shadow. "Grumpy Az? Taciturn Az? Maybe Secretive Az?" She joked, but she was worried about the shadowsinger. The last few weeks had been hard on all of them.  
  
Mor entered Azriel's room quietly, not wanting to disrupt the silence that usually surrounded him.  
  
"Have they made any progress," he asked without looking up from his desk.  
  
"It's slow going, but they’re working on it." Mor circled Azriel to come around the side of the desk, getting a good look at his face. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a full tray of food on the floor next to his desk. "Have you been sleeping enough?"  
  
"Enough," he answered shortly. He set down the paper he had been reading and closed his eyes, momentarily. "Is there something you needed, Mor?"  
  
"You tell me," she replied softly. She knew that he hated feeling useless, trapped in this house while he had someone gather secrets for him. No one else was as effective, as perceptive, as Azriel was, and the need to keep information within the Inner Circle was crucial right now. Mor saw these thoughts swirling stormily through him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He immediately stiffened at the contact that should have been reassuring.  
  
"I just need to feel useful." He shuffled papers around on his desk angrily, papers with information gathered by others and brought to him. He didn’t want her to see him like this, on top of everything.  
  
"You are more useful to us healthy, Az. You won't be any good to anyone if you don't take it easy for a bit longer." Anticipating his protests, she continued. "Your shadows came to find me again. We are getting to be fast friends. They tell me your secrets, and braid my hair, and sometimes, they even bring me cake." Tilting her head, Mor waited for some response, but was met with silence.  
  
Exasperated, she sighed. "Azriel, dammit, let me in. Tell me what I can do. We're all going through this together and I know your favorite pastime is to tell me ‘no’, but seriously."  
  
They usually communicated so much with glances, rarely needing more than that to let each other know their thoughts, but Morrigan was made of something different than the shadowsinger. Where she was light and energy, he was darkness that slinked in corners, preferring observation to interaction. Usually she accepted and even admired his quiet strength, but now she needed to hear his voice, to get him out of his own head.  
  
"Mor, it's more complicated than that and you know it." He finally turned to meet her gaze, her honey brown eyes looking into him and seeing more than he intended, as they always did. "I can't allow you to risk yourself, or anyone else, to risk themselves for a job that I should take care of.” He turned away again.  
  
She replied, her voice nearly a whisper, "when will you realize that I would do anything for you?"  
  
They were teetering close to a precipice he had avoided hundreds of times over the last five hundred years, a precipice he was always on the verge of jumping from, if he weren't terrified that his heart would be shredded in the process. Or that he would shred hers.  
  
When he didn't respond, Mor continued. "I can't stop thinking about the look on Rhys' face when we thought his bond with Feyre was broken. When he knew she was going to leave and he had to act like he thought he had lost her." Mor wore a pained expression, recalling the moment when all of her friends had needed her. But she was only one woman and she had taken Azriel's head in her lap, focused on healing his wounds, forced to sit back and watch as the rest of her friends were devastated again and again.  
  
She began again, knowing Az wouldn't mind if she filled the silence. "I can't imagine what he must be feeling right now. To only get impressions, to never know for sure what's going on in the Spring Court, not knowing if Feyre is safe from one minute to the next. But at least they told each other how they felt, they had time together, before..." Her voiced trailed off and she glanced back at Azriel.  
  
"Subtlety has never been your strong suit, Morrigan."  
  
"Well of course not, but with you acting like an idiot when I try to be up front with you, what else am I supposed to do, Az," she retorted. "How else can I tell you how much I care if you shut me down every time I try to put it in plain language?”  
  
And there had been times, numerous moments throughout the years when, in desperation before or after a battle, or during the quiet, peaceful moments, Mor had thought she would finally be able to get through to him. Az always brushed it off as fear, desperation, or something she said in the heat of the moment that wouldn’t hold true once they resumed their daily routines.  
  
Azriel said softly, "I know you love me, Mor, but after everything that happened at the camp, with Cassian, and then your family-“  
  
Mor shook her head. "We're immortal, Az, but even you must agree that's ancient history. It’s just an excuse, now. And I don't love you.” He glanced up at her. "I'm _in love_ with you."  
  
His face took on a determined look. "There are other reasons. Mor, even if you don't want that sort of life required by Keir and the rest of your family, eventually you will choose someone, and that someone should at the very least deserve you. Eventually you'll find someone and they won't be afraid of what they feel for you. They'll be worthy of you."  
  
"What is it that you see when you look at me, Az? What do you feel?"  
  
He knew by the determined tilt of her head that she wouldn't let him get away with his usual one-word answers.  
  
"I see my friend, the strongest, kindest female I've ever known. I see a survivor who is somehow still full of light. I feel..." He paused. Words fell so far short of expressing the expansion in his chest, the lightness he felt, the burden lifted, when he looked at her.  
  
He continued. ”When I look at you, I feel like I could be happy doing nothing else for the rest of my life, but that. I love you. I’m _in love_ with you," he corrected. "And I feel like I am taking a piece of your light from you. Like no matter what I do for you, it will never be enough to make up for the misery I bring with me. Do you wonder why I keep my lovers hidden from everyone? My enemies would want you, and they would hurt you. I have hurt many, many people over the centuries, Morrigan. And they would love nothing more than to destroy the woman I love.”  
  
She remained silent for a moment. Azriel thought he had finally won by losing when she spoke again.  
  
"When I look at you, Az, I feel like I have everything I need. I feel like I never have to worry about the Court of Nightmares again, because I know that you are by my side. I am awed by your loyalty to your friends, your strength. And I feel like I am worth something, like I have value beyond my power. I'm not a prize, Az." She nearly choked on the word. The King of Hybern had made her feel like she had a price, and it so nearly echoed her own family's sentiments that she had felt the bars of an invisible cage coming for her again.  
  
She continued. “Every day of our lives there is some challenge, some danger. But we get through it by being _together_ , Az, not isolating ourselves. I have always been a target.” She scoffed, “ _the Morrigan_ , they say, as if I’m just the sum of my power. As if that’s all I’m good for.” Her lower lip trembled, and she paused a moment to compose herself.  
  
“So there is no 'deserving' me, Azriel, because there is no price. There are no hoops to jump, no fees to pay, no requirements to be met to be worthy. There is just me, and my heart, and my choice. And I choose you, Az." Mor looked into his face, looking for some sort of response, but Azriel avoided her gaze. Frustrated, she stood and made to leave.  
  
"That's fine," she said, her voice cracking. "I would choose you for the next five hundred years, but if you refuse to choose me then I’m done.” The words came out angrier than she intended, but she couldn’t take them back. She turned her back to him and tried to regain her composure.  
  
"Morrigan." Azriel stood, walking towards her with silent footsteps and she turned. "Every minute since I met you, I have chosen you. I would choose you every day until the end of my existence, if you let me. If I wasn't afraid of bringing you..." his hands gestured around the room, as if she could complete his thought.  
  
She cut him off. "Bringing me what, exactly, Az? What is so horrible about you? What could you possibly do to me that my own family hasn't done already? What else have you ever shown me, but kindness and care, compassion without judgement, respect? I know you love me, but it’s always on your terms.”  
  
He started. He had never thought about it their relationship in that way, but it was true. He was constantly showing her that he loved her, without allowing her to love him in return. She was far more demonstrative than him by nature, and it must have taken a great amount of strength to hold herself back from showing him the same devotion that he let her see in his actions every day.  
  
He closed the final distance between them until she had to tip her head back to look up at him. Her golden hair fell in waves at her back and hesitantly, he brought his fingers to it, brushing through it with care. He kept his focus on this piece of her as he spoke, avoiding eye contact.  
  
“I kept waiting for you to find someone else,” he said. “I thought, if I just wait long enough, you’ll find someone who can give you what I can’t. Maybe even your mate.”  
  
“My mate,” she sniffed in disdain. “Cauldron be damned, with all this mate business. My family tried to find out who it was, when I first… came of age. They wanted to know if it was someone powerful, someone they could bargain with. They weren’t able to find out. But I don’t care. I’m not letting my family, or the Cauldron, or anyone else determine who I should be with.”  
  
Azriel nodded as the pieces clicked into place. “All these years, I’ve been watching you.” His voice was low, pained. Morrigan gave him the time to speak. “Every time you gave someone that look, or took them to bed, I thought…” his jaw clenched at the memories. “But it never stuck. And I was waiting, so I could know you were happy, and I could move on.”  
  
"Az..." Her hand cupped his cheek, and he leaned into her warmth, closing his eyes. He would stay like this, if she would let him. But they both knew what she needed, and what he wanted more than anything else.  
  
He took her hand from his face, turning it so he could place a soft kiss on her palm. Instantly, fire flickered through her core. He felt the warmth of her pulse on her wrist just beneath his fingers, and moved to pull both of her arms up until they rested around his neck. Mor continued to search his face until he let out a small sigh and looked into her warm brown eyes, full of expectation. He didn't understand how she could allow herself to be so open and vulnerable with him, but he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect her heart.  
  
An eternity passed in that gaze, an eternity in which he finally realized that he could let himself love her fully, and that she deserved to show him her love in return, that they couldn't continue like it was. That he couldn't stand living like that anymore.  
  
Bowing his head, Azriel brushed Morrigan's lips with his own, softly, waiting for her to protest or take it all back. She increased her grip on his neck and shoulders and brought them closer together, lifting herself up on her toes until she was even with him and could kiss him fully. Her lips parted and her tongue brushed the seam of his mouth. He opened his own mouth and she groaned with satisfaction as their tongues met and tasted. He was warm and soft, and he tasted like the honey he favored for his tea. She took his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged slightly, flicking it with her tongue before she explored his mouth further.  
  
Azriel had spent so much time staring at her mouth when she wasn't paying attention that for a moment he was still, letting her take the lead. He came to his senses and renewed his tasting of her, hands at the back of her head, twisted in the hair he had watched sparkling in the sun, pictured splayed out beneath him so many times before. She began tugging at his clothes, making it clear where she wanted this to end.  
  
"Morrigan," he managed to say. "The door is open." A stiff breeze suddenly slammed the bedroom door shut, and finally having privacy, Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up, Mor's feet dangling as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, and he wanted to drown in the open warmth and love he saw in her eyes.  
  
They lay on their sides, facing each other, his hand resting on her hip, until he finally spoke. "Mor, are you sure?"  
  
"Shut up, Az," she said softly.

Slowly, she pushed him on his back and straddled him. Above him, Mor peeled off her short Night Court top, revealing nothing but skin underneath. Az thought he was going to stop breathing, and he knew he had to get his mouth on her again. He sat up, bringing them closer together. She was golden, smooth in places and scarred in others, and her body told the story of her life in a way that made it all new to him again. As if he hadn't been the one to pull the nail from her abdomen, or heal the hundreds of other incidental injuries she had received over the years. Looking at her now, he realized, her body told the story of how she had become the woman he loved, and was a gift.  
  
"Your turn," she whispered. She unfastened the clasps on his tunic, and as she took it off she brushed a wing and smiled at his small gasp. They were both bare from the waist up, and Az placed his hands on her waist and kissed her again, slowly moving his hands up her back until they came to rest on the back of her neck. Shaking her head at his caution, Mor took his hands and brought them to her breasts.  
  
Suddenly unleashed, Azriel began to circle his hands on the smooth skin there, bringing his fingertips to her peaked nipples and pinching. Mor let out a gasp of pleasure and he took a breast into his mouth, kissing and stroking with his tongue until he knew every inch of skin there, what she liked and what would make her tremble. He ran a knuckle along the underside of her breast as he worked her nipple with his tongue, enjoying her struggle to retain control, relishing in the gasps and the ragged breath that he had always wanted to provoke from her.  
  
" _Azriel_ ," she moaned, and she knew he was going to take his time with her, make sure that no doubts lingered in her mind as to how much he worshiped her. She rocked her hips on his lap, trying to find waves of pleasure she knew would come. He was already hard underneath her, her moans going to his cock. He grabbed her waist suddenly and flipped them so that she was lying underneath him, her gold hair spread out around her.  
  
"I need to see you," he ground out. "Yes," she gasped, and he instantly had his fingers under the waistband of her silk pants. Slowly, kissing her stomach, her hip, her thigh as he went, he removed the rest of her clothing until she was bared underneath him. He moved back up to meet her and kiss her again so hungrily that Mor thought she might not be able to contain this much love and pleasure.  
  
Mor fumbled at the laces of Azriel's own pants until he reached down and removed them himself. She saw how ready he was for her and greedily grasped for him, but he pulled back.  
  
"Not yet, princess." She could feel his breath on her ear and the promise in his eyes that this was going to take a long, long time. She shuddered in anticipation.  
  
They'd each had hundreds of years thinking about this moment, and neither wanted it to be over too quickly, no matter how many times it happened in the future. This was precious, the breaking of a dam, the perfect mixing of his darkness and her light, underneath the stars of their home. Every sigh and moan would be savored, catalogued, compared to what they had imagined could be possible. And their imaginations paled in comparison.  
  
Az paused above her, fully looking at her now, every freckle and plane of her face as familiar as to him his own, yet somehow new. He kept his weight from crushing her, but felt the urge to wrap himself around her, to be inside of her, to let his darkness mingle with her light - not to obscure, he realized. He could never do that, as he feared. Instead of being a tool of destruction, they complemented each other, so much stronger together than they could be apart.  
  
She relished this newfound openness in him, this unabashed expression of his adoration. It might not leave this room, not to this extent, but there it was, what she had always suspected was under his rippling, shadowy black surface. Her fingertips traced his brow, his cheekbones, his jaw, until finally she raised her mouth to his. She closed her eyes, wanting to focus on the feel and weight of him above her, the points of contact so overwhelming but still not enough.  
  
"Say my name,” she whispered against his mouth.  
  
" _Morrigan_ ," he growled, and her name on his lips had her on edge.  
  
"Tell me what you want."  
  
" _You_." With a sigh Azriel shifted his weight off of her, sliding down to place a trail of kisses down her torso, tasting her as he went. He looked up at her from where he was at her waist. Making sure that their eyes were locked, he purred, "spread your legs for me, love." Her pulse racing, she obliged him. He let his fingers wander down her stomach until he reached between her legs, brushing slightly without touching her fully.  
  
"Dammit, Az, just touch me," she growled, and he chuckled softly. Moving so that he was between her legs, he looked down so that he could concentrate on her completely. He parted her folds and the evidence of her desire for him became more apparent. He easily slid his fingers onto her wetness, rubbing her inner folds and letting the tips of his fingers tease her entrance. She moved on the bed, unable to keep still as he moved his fingers, watching her face to see her reaction to what he did to her. He could barely keep himself contained as he anticipated what it would be like to slide his cock into her.  
  
"Morrigan, look at me," he commanded, as he began kissing her inner thigh, moving closer and closer to where his fingers worked. Licking and biting as he went, Mor's breathing became increasingly uneven as he got closer to where she needed him to be.  
  
"Az, please, I want you -" she stopped, catching her breath.  
  
"What do you want, love?"  
  
"I want your mouth on me, I need your tongue, everything," she gasped, and he finally lowered his mouth to her folds, kissing her gently and tasting her fully. He thought he might go mad from it. She was warmth and womanly and he thought he would never get enough. He gently kissed and sucked and licked her, sliding his fingers into her. First one, then another. He worked her until her back arched off the bed, his name escaping her lips in a way he had only dreamed of as she found release rushing through her. He continued working with his teeth and tongue and lips until she had ridden the last wave of her pleasure, one hand clenched in the sheets and the other in his hair. Stroking her inner thigh as she shuddered, he said, "you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Morrigan." She moaned something unintelligible in reply, and he smiled at seeing her out of words for once.  
  
Az laid back on the bed next to her, watching Mor in the aftermath of what he had wrought from her, his fingers softly circling over her abdomen. When she had regained some of her senses, Mor pushed Az on his back again, wanting to explore him every bit as much as he had her.  
  
Straddling him, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders, over the tattoos she had admired so many times. Reaching down for his hands, she brought them to her mouth and kissed them, putting his fingertips to her lips one at a time. The scars on his hands were a source of shame, and she hated the way he became uncomfortable when anyone noticed them. He watched her mouth as she took one of his fingers into it, nipping and sucking gently. She looked at him watching her, and placing his hands on her hips, she leaned down to kiss him again.  
  
After grinding her hips over his once to remind him of what would come, she moved down, tracing his tattoos with her fingers, kissing the trail they made over his chest. She shifted further down the bed and took in the sight of his scarred, muscled body. He stiffened slightly, but as she lazily traced a fingertip over his torso, lower and lower, she whispered, "you are so beautiful, Az." She said it with reverence, and he knew she wasn't mocking him or trying to comfort him. There was real awe in her voice, the same awe he had when he saw her scars. They were both survivors, and they had finally come together after so much bloodshed and heartbreak.  
  
She took his cock in one hand, and he let out a long groan, and looked up at the ornate ceiling of his room. "Az," she teased. "Look at me, love." He looked into her face as she lowered her mouth onto him, first tracing her tongue along his length, then taking him into her mouth. She worked him as he had her, bringing him to the edge with her tongue before he suddenly sat up and stopped her. He needed to be inside of her, now.  
  
Pulling her back up to meet him, Azriel pinned her on her back and kissed her deeply, knowing that he would have this chance again, often.  
  
Mor savored the pressure of his weight over her, aching to feel him inside of her. Gently, he teased himself at her entrance until she lifted her hips. "Please, Az," she murmured, and he knew he would enjoy bringing more of those  _pleases_ to her lips. He guided himself into her slowly, letting her adjust to him as he went.

It had been a while for both of them; while they had both had lovers, none of them ever stuck around for long, not once they understood that Azriel and Morrigan always held each other as the first, most important priority. Once it became clear that, although they weren't together, anyone else would always come second to what the two felt for each other.  
  
Mor held his face in her hands, and as he drew himself out and pushed in again, thrusting into her, they watched each other, not wanting to miss a moment of each other's pleasure. She moaned as she grew accustomed to his size, and she reached down to stroke herself. Az reached down to replace her hand with his own as his thrusts grew more insistent, their breath and the shaking of the bed the only other sounds.  
  
"Morrigan," he rasped near her ear. "I love you." She smiled at this declaration until pleasure took over and she couldn't hold herself back from calling his name. His fingers continued to coax her along, his pumping deep and purposeful until she came around him, tightening her legs around his waist. Although he was on top of her and inside of her, she felt as if he could never touch her enough, and she wanted to lose the boundary between their bodies. He kept thrusting, deep and hard, and she felt the heat building again, until finally they came together in a mess of sweat and limbs.  
  
Minutes passed as their breathing became more regular, matching each other. When he moved to pull out of her and shift his weight, Mor tightened her arms and legs around him and whimpered, “Not yet."  
  
Placing delicate kisses on her neck, he whispered, "do you love me?" Mor wanted to laugh because the answer to his question had been obvious for centuries. Instead she said, gently, "since the beginning, Azriel. Until the end."  
  
He looked into her eyes, tears in his own, and answered her with a kiss, brushing her hair from her forehead. "Since the beginning. Until the end," he echoed.


End file.
